The Earl's Outrageous Lover Page 0,23

He looked a bit anxious about her ideas.

Besides, she had liked him showing her how to shoot the pistol too much. She liked the way he came close, his body almost pressing against hers as he wrapped his arms around her. She moved in her seat and looked out the window, sighing at the scenery passing by.

She wanted to question him, to see if he felt any of the tension she was feeling or if it was all one sided but in the end, she didn’t want to know. She might have the courage to pick up a conversation with a complete stranger, but she didn’t have that kind of courage when it came to Edward. He was just too big, too intimidating and she cared too much about his answer.

The luncheon was a total waste of her time. The men at the meeting were older, the youngest being in his late fifties. It was a meeting of chief executive officers of various companies around the city who congregated occasionally to talk shop. There were several other wives that Jessica could talk to while the men discussed business, but even Edward realized that the meeting wasn’t a productive atmosphere for her purposes. She smiled to him each time he looked in her direction, but for the most part, she sat and talked with the women, listening to their stories about their grandchildren and the issues of being married to a man with so much responsibility. Many of the women complained that they rarely got to see their husbands, and some even relished the nights he was gone or the weeks when their husbands were out of town.

Jessica looked over at Edward, surrounded by several other older men, none of whom were even close to his height or had his air of confidence. All of them seemed to be asking his advice and she admired him for his patience in dealing with people she suspected he didn’t really like.

But she also knew that, if she were married to Edward, she wouldn’t be excited when he was gone. She thought back to the shooting range only hours ago, the way he held his arms around her and how it made her feel. She shivered at the memory, wondering what it would be like to have his arms around her for other reasons, personal and intimate reasons. If anything, she would resent his time away from her, the times when he wouldn’t come home and put his arms around her or hold her at night while they slept.

She sighed, despondent that she had so little time and only one man who attracted her. And that man’s personality was just….wrong for her. Completely right for some woman, but not in her case.

By the following evening, her sentiments were completely different. Jessica wished she’d never even heard of Edward Livingston. As she descended the stairs in her black evening gown, her eyes searched for and found him at the bottom of the staircase. But instead of the look of admiration she was hoping to find on his handsome features, all she saw was…irritation?

She wanted to run back up the stairs, or run down them and kick him in the shins for his reaction. What was wrong with her dress? The simple, black crepe was perfectly appropriate for the evening.

She’d tried so hard to look nice tonight and all he did was glare at her as she continued to approach. She’d thought the black crepe dress with the unadorned neckline was exactly what he would prefer, something that made her look respectable and, hopefully, elegant. So why was he staring at her like she’d just slapped him across the face.

“What the hell are you wearing?” he demanded when she reached the bottom stair.

Jessica looked down at the black dress and glared right back at him, refusing to be intimidated by him any longer. She crossed her arms over her chest, leaning forward slightly to emphasize her anger at his reaction to her wardrobe choice. “I thought we were attending a charity ball tonight.”

With his hands on his hips, he glared down at her. “We are. So why are you dressed for a funeral?”

That infuriated her. “What’s wrong with my dress?”

He stepped forward and shook his head. “Are you the same woman who showed up in red cowboy boots just a few days ago?” he demanded.

She gasped and leaned back, her anger increasing to fury at the possibility that he might be insulting her favorite shoes. “What’s